Open Letter to Mr. L K Advani: The Lurking Shadow that was a Towering Leader once

“Protecting Modi was your bigger sin than praising Jinnah”
Dear Advaniji,
With every passing day your silence is getting thicker. The text of your frowns, howsoever unreadable it maybe, spells calamity to those who have known you since your Jansangh days. It’s not the pain of a setback you got in the twilight hour of your gigantic political career. The way you have always played a role in creation and destruction of political edifices around, no power could tame you (bundle you up, actually) if it was just a straight fight for the top post. It’s something more, something ominous. And you owe a disclosure to the nation over your loyalty to the party you gave your life for or to the organization (RSS) you are ideologically wedded to. To my uninformed guess, both of them together, in the present scenario, can’t dish up for you anything more than the presidential chair. By giving a fair thought to the assumption that you gave up the baton realizing that accepting the gift was the best thing you could do to yourself at the beginning of your sunset, things don’t really fall into place. A person of your stature and tenacity would have turned down this offer with a wry smile if it was five years ago, and at this juncture too, you had the aura and ability to save both in your favor, the grandeur of Rashtrapati Bhavan and, if not full, a fair usage of your vocal cords. There was no need for you to play a reclusive politician, a bad role for one who has always been a dominating Advani.
And if you are having a plan to first have what is on the platter, and then write your memoirs to exonerate yourself, believe me sir , you will actually write yourself off before the history does that to you. Summon up courage, and do what a great leader is supposed to do in an hour of crisis and not what a machinating politician does when forced to capitulate.
It seems, in hindsight, that there was a pre-election hidden agenda perhaps you and a few more rational faces in the party were not privy to or didn’t agree to. The punishment was their marginalization. You opted for an agonizing aloofness to save what you could save in the turmoil— a token respect for your seniority. Most fell in the line; now piteously following the diktats of a robotically zealot performer you were for years proud of engineering the one. In a tutored obedience, he publicly touches your feet. Only he doesn’t ask for your instructions or advice any more. I don’t know you curse yourself to now see a successful personification of your idea you finally got wary of pursuing — the hard line of Hindu nationalism. It was a fateful coincidence that the time came for this fossilized idea just after you decided to wear the brand of Vajpayee shoes for your next big role. Steady decadence of the Congress cleared the road for the new man on your abandoned rath. Ironically, you had by then, in a weak moment of yours, praised Jinnah. There is a political school that believes the inauspicious utterance caused your eclipse. I beg to differ with sir. In my mind you invited your nemesis right when you were intoxicated with power and in a thick-skinned way saved your protégé from an unceremonious sacking he deserved. Protecting Modi was your bigger sin than praising Jinnah.
The aftermath of BJP’s windfall victory, is slowly clearing the smokescreen to the lot whose worries are compounding every day. The voices we hear are disturbing. There’s no leader who speaks in a reassuring manner. An ugly face of neo- fascism is in the makeup room eager to take over the stage, to say much in a few words. And there is much more going on behind the curtain.
The main dish BJP promised —development— is still on the menu, no doubt. Mr. Narendra Damodardas Modi, the master chef, is searching every container around to get his recipe right. But when there is poison in the meal sir, it matters less if it was in the main course or in the soup that came just before. The consequence is fatal.
The worry is written all over your map, sir. It’s a historic moment for you; it’s up to you to catch it and reincarnate yourself or pass it and go down with. The people are anxiously waiting to hear the words of sanity from the forgotten architect of the behemoth that forebodingly governs them today.
It’s a time for you to be the statesman the nation is crushingly awaiting the arrival of.
With sincere regards,
Babulal Vedprakash Gautam
Matunga, Mumbai-400019
Email: gautambl@yahoo.co.in
Mob: 9820506161

Shobha De’s tweet doesn’t call for a privilege motion

By any sensible interpretation Shobha De’s tweet is not offensive to the legislative assembly, and calling motion of privilege is completely unwarranted in this case. It’s, in fact, par-dadagiri. In a democracy, a chief minister is a mere executive head of a state, and you can call him anything at the risk of a defamation suit slapped against you. He has no privileges as such. Secondly, a citizen has the right to criticize or mock any of the decisions taken by a government even if the decision has the backing of a legislative bill or an ordinance. It can no way be construed a contempt to the House. For that matter even saying something against the people populating the house is not an insult to the House, per se.
Recently, in an open letter written to the PM of India I have termed the members of the parliament as ‘morons or ostriches warming the seats of the two august houses’ and I don’t think I have shown a disrespect to the House.
We are turning into a dark democracy day by day. Shobha De will perhaps apologize, not because she has committed any offence, but only because her survival instinct would let her in. There is a beastly world out there where democracy works, but feebly.

Letter to the PM: This dance of the dark shadows is Kafkaesque

Dear Prime Minister

Today about two-third of India is off the balance sheet, as off as the dark matter in our Universe. But the kind of darkness Creation can afford in its astoundingly roomy belly, a nation can’t, unless annihilation is the fate it has chosen. I am not talking about the much-talked about black economy we have all around our existence. Black economy is just one black hole sucking the large amount of light our sizeable citizenry generates. My point is the all-encompassing legislative, administrative and systemic darkness that has lately become our inescapable fate. The cosmologists found a handiest way to deal with the indeterminable problem of dark matter/energy — they ignored it. That is sadly not possible in a world where the bread is mostly a few inches out of reach and the death is at a kissing distance. The nation has suffered, and is still suffering the cosmic blunder its leadership committed by ignoring two-third of the population. The day of reckoning comes, maybe after a long haul, but it comes. For us, it’s come now. Now is the time to define the change, and to change. Ideally, in a democracy, change beacons when the smallest denomination of it, a common man, that’s me, dares the most powerful, the Prime Minister, that’s you. And here we are Sir.

Till yesterday we had a scholarly Prime Minister who had almost no voice, and today we have a Prime Minister who loves just one voice, that’s his. The time is not for you to speak. It’s to hear, and not the obsequies of your spineless bureaucrats or whispers of your billionaire backers, but the screams of the voiceless millions. Your time to speak is over, Sir. Now listen to the voice of a totally nameless and equally fearless common man. For heaven’s sake, don’t try to give me an identity and deny the primacy of an ‘everyman’, I have dearly earned.

When I decided to do, in my humble way, the 10 most right things I should do for my nation before l die, I thought of making a clarion call to all the passionately concerned and relatively free people like me to join the chain. But no, I am neither a leader nor a preacher so I decided to do just my part. The first among the 10 was ‘the illegal DTH services of Indian companies in our neighboring countries’. Pakistan being foremost, from where the gang of Indian fugitives holds the reins of this syndicate, exhorted me to pick this issue first from my list. The domain knowledge I had of the subject added the clarity and confidence. Naively, I believed that in a reasonable time span I will bring this brazen violation to the fore and put the government in action to halt the damage and book the offending companies. I was awfully wrong. It has been more than a year today, and I have reached nowhere in spite of my relentless efforts. At this pace, for the remaining nine of my list I might have to write a will I had no mind for one otherwise.

Governments are Frankenstein by their being. Every act of a government is for its survival; progress and welfare if come along are consequent side-effects. When Media, the monster of modern times, turns an unholy partner in the trade we have a nation without moral moorings; a nation that sails with winds, to nowhere. That India is undoubtedly one today if seen without a pair of political spectacles. And such a nation would always be inclined to take a perilous path. The so- called representatives of the public go deaf as they turn gods in their own right and belief that the country has been mortgaged to them for five years. This is what I have realized, of course a hard way, in my fight against the nexus of power and pelf while pursuing my mission. The Media chose to be deaf, dumb, and blind, as the truth as it unfolds in this case would hit their patrons hard.

Like I have written to you the incontrovertible details of this colossal illicit business spread across countries, I sent the same to around 500 ‘sitting’ MPs of both the houses. I am not counting the journalists and the activists here, because they have long back stopped taking up the issue that don’t tantalize them and fit into their scheme. Mine was obviously injurious to their purpose in life. Writing to the law-enforcing agencies was like banging your head to the ramparts of an eerie monument. The response has been a zilch, and the action nothing more. All these MPs are using the domain of sansad.nic.in, believably allotted to them in public interest. Why do they have the official mail ids’ and why are these ids’ made public when not a single one of them answers, or even acknowledges a query? Is it a façade to create a false notion and beguile the people that how accessible their representatives are? This dance of the dark shadows is tragic, and Kafkaesque. I called up a couple of these MPs, and what they spoke was sickening. I was at pain to have gauged the mire our democracy is into. That pain gives me a right to choose a pejorative for these guardians of the nation from the many a flashing in my mind. My decency doesn’t allow me to go below a moron or an ostrich. With that I see around 800 ostriches with their necks down to their knees, warming the seats of the two august houses. The nation is lamentably in wrong hands, to say the least.

As regards the response from your office My Prime Minister, I got every time an auto-generated mail from a computer, and that was like a dry joke by the third time. I am a reasonably aware and immensely proud citizen of India, and not a tiny mechanical device at the other end of the system you disdainfully preside over. You will answer my gaping question My Prime Minister, and if you don’t, this unanswered question will follow you to the pages of the history you go. You have a Council of Ministers, and I have written to every single member of that including the Ministry of I & B, the Ministry of Finance, and the Ministry of Home, all three having the jurisdiction to deal with the offences committed by the defaulters and the conspirators of this illicit and anti- national operation. The Ministries have perhaps decided to not open the tin of worms in their own interest, not caring about the compound losses they caused to the State.

Now I come back to the darkness of our democracy, Sir. To begin with, I little know if this letter of mine will ever reach you or will remain in the bottomless pit of a server or in the pipeline with numberless bureaucratic filters. I am equally ignorant about the fate of those thousands of mails I wrote to you, your ministers, your party functionaries, and the 500 MPs of the various political parties. Isn’t it uncanny that thousands of the functionaries of a democratic state behaved in one singular way— no-one acknowledges, no- one answers, no- one takes up, and no- one tells the writer to ‘stop his non-sense’? It’s darker than my description, Sir.

It will not remain so, trust my word, Sir. Words— words of truth— have the strength to light up the world. There will be light that will pierce this darkness that stubbornly envelopes us today. I have just those words of truth, composed of letters. And a letter is indestructible (akshar), you know My Prime Minister.

With earnest regards,

Babulal Vedprakash Gautam